


Sun hasn't died

by Ambros



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, BAMF!Alec, Bamf!Magnus, Fights, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 20:46:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11905914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambros/pseuds/Ambros
Summary: - He stiffens when he sees a Shadowhunter making his way trough the crowd, vampires and warlocks and werewolves hissing and snapping their fangs at him, but the Shadowhunter doesn't pay them any attention.He's tall, tall enough to tower over most of the crowd, not terribly broad but definitely not lean, black, messy hair too long on his forehead, hazel eyes betraying his nerves as he stares at the ring.





	Sun hasn't died

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this super quickly because I need to get it out of my head :)  
> It's loosely based on the video for Radioactive by Imagine Dragons and I'd be happy to write more in this universe if it's something someone might be interested in :)  
> You can always find me on [Tumblr](https://sometimesambroswrites.tumblr.com/) for a chat or a cry or a prompt!  
> 

The crowd is loud and Magnus is bored, a drink in his hand, his elbow resting carelessly on the armrest, middle finger against his lips.

He doesn't care much for these fights, only shows up because Camille would never let him hear the end of it if he didn't. Plus, he's never been a gambler – he doesn't really believe in luck and he doesn't have it in him to pay enough attention to figure out who might win. He's never really enjoyed violence either, he's never developed a taste for it, unlike his companions who keep yelling and laughing, intoxicated – then again, they are all so young they probably haven't seen enough of it yet.

Sudden silence falls over the crowd in waves, starting from the last rows, working its way up to the enclosed square of dust and dirt, startled and hostile, so much so that even the fight stops, vampire and werewolf taking a step back, chests heaving and glistening under the dim lights of the basement, and Magnus feels Camille straightening up next to him, coiling like a snake ready to strike.

Magnus raises his head, the shadow of the black hood covering his golden eyes, magic already dancing between his fingertips, under his skin, just in case – Valentine's monsters have never found them there thanks to his wards, but it's not like there's peace even between survivors.

He stiffens when he sees a Shadowhunter making his way trough the crowd, vampires and warlocks and werewolves hissing and snapping their fangs at him, but the Shadowhunter doesn't pay them any attention.

He's tall, tall enough to tower over most of the crowd, not terribly broad but definitely not lean, black, messy hair too long on his forehead, hazel eyes betraying his nerves as he stares at the ring.

Magnus knows Camille is smiling next to him.

-Don't even think about it,- he murmurs, voice hard. He knows everyone can hear him.

Camille ignores him and studies the Shadowhunter like he's the most delicious thing she's ever seen: -What do you want, Shadowhunter?- she asks, voice thick and overly sweet, like honey making its way over to him, and Magnus presses his lips together.

The Shadowhunter keeps his hands pressed against his thighs, elbows straight – probably to avoid crossing his arms over his chest. He raises his head defiantly as he looks at Camille, his eyes moving quickly over Magnus: -To fight,- he says, blunt and dry.

Whistles and shouts erupt around him and he doesn't flinch.

Magnus speaks before Camille can, can already feel her excitement thrum in the air and he's _not_ going to clean up that mess: -We don't let the children of the Nephilim play with us.

Someone groans in the crowd as the Shadowhunter's eyes settle on him and Magnus is glad for the black hood that's covering most of his face, doesn't enjoy that scrutiny at all.

-But he's asking so nicely,- Camille says, her voice betraying her annoyance at being stepped over; she leans forward, sinuous: -And he's so cute,- her eyes shift towards Magnus, -I bet even you wouldn't mind seeing him fight.-

But then she turns to the crowd and Magnus knows he will lose this battle.

-Wouldn't we all love to see a Shadowhunter fight?

The cheer that erupts is almost deafening.

~

Camille huffs when she notices the hard set of Magnus' shoulders, the way his fist is tight on the armrest: -You should learn to enjoy yourself, Magnus.

Magnus keeps his eyes on the Shadowhunter entering the ring, nervous energy flying between his fingers: -He's going to get hurt,- he murmurs, furiously, -We can't afford a war against the Shadowhunters.

-Relax,- Camille says, sounding like she's rolling her eyes, -Everyone knows you don't tolerate deaths in our ring.

- _Your_ ring,- Magnus grunts, and Camille laughs.

The Shadowhunter is dressed in simple black, black shirt, black trousers and black boots, black and purplish runes wrapping around his arms and neck, and Magnus rolls his eyes when he sees his opponent.

Aloysius is a huge werewolf from New Jersey with a buzz cut and a brain that doesn't match his muscles, which means they're just hoping to see the Shadowhunter piss his pants.

Camille sounds overjoyed when she says: -Begin!-, and the bell rings.

The Shadowhunter is good. He doesn't dive into the fight without thinking, doesn't let Aloysius' size intimidate him. His fists are wrapped in white bandages and he holds them high, defensive as Aloysius talks some shit about his mother that makes Magnus roll his eyes.

When the Shadowhunter attacks he's nearly too fast to see: Aloysius crumbles down, his hands pressed on his stomach as he growls, more wolf than man, and the Shadowhunter takes a step back, moving with small jumps; the crowd whistles and boos and a small smile curls Magnus' lips.

He's not a huge fan of Aloysius – the werewolf doesn't have any grace or technique when he fights, he's simple brutality, and they've often had to pry him off his unconscious opponents, so Magnus is all for someone teaching him a lesson.

Of course, this doesn't mean that the Shadowhunter is going to have it easy.

Aloysius drops the taunting and holds his fists up high, growling, fangs pressing against his lower lip, and then he moves.

There are no rules in the ring apart from _don't kill_ and _don't bite_ , so Magnus sits up straighter, his hood pushed back enough that he can see the ring as Aloysius attacks, relentless, fury and hurt pride pushing him, making him lethal; the Shadowhunter keeps his movements clean and elegant, he's fighting by the book, and Magnus thinks that's probably his first mistake when Aloysius catches him on the jaw, the Shadowhunter's head snapping back.

The crowd cheers.

None of these fighters learned to fight with rules. They fight for survival and fun.

Magnus' fist is tight on the armrest and Camille chuckles next to him: -Pretty boys were always your weakness,- she comments, careless.

Magnus glares at her for a moment only, doesn't miss the redness already blossoming on the Shadowhunter's chin. -I'm making sure he doesn't get hurt,- he says, cold.

-I don't doubt that,- Camille says, gesturing for one of her vampires to bring her a drink, -It's the reason behind that that makes it interesting.

The Shadowhunter lands two punches in quick succession and Aloysius takes a step back, swings wildly and catches him in the side.

Magnus turns towards Camille, his eyes bright with magic and his voice hard and cold: -I enjoy this so called peace we have with the Shadowhunters who are actually on our side and I don't have any intention to jeopardize it to have some fun, unlike _you._

Camille's grin turns into something cold and ugly, her red lips pressed together; she looks away to take her drink from the vampire and sends him away with a flick of her wrist. -No need to get snappy,- she says.

Magnus turns to look at the fight again. He knows he shouldn't have. Camille can hold a grudge for decades.

Neither Aloysius nor the Shadowhunter look like they're in particularly good shape. Their punches don't look as fast or as focused and the Shadowhunter isn't moving around as much, just trying to keep his strength as he ducks and hits back, ducks and hits back.

Aloysius seems to be getting angrier and angrier with every punch that hits him, his growls louder and deeper in his chest as the wolf flickers in and out of his face, and Magnus knows, _knows_ that usually, by now, he'd receive a warning, but not now because Camille is pissed at him. Damn it.

His fingers are drumming on the armrest, magic so close to his skin that the air around him is shimmering.

He sees the moment the Shadowhunter decides that he's not going to lose this.

There's a stubborn set to his jaw and he takes a deep breath, sweat shining on his forehead mixed with the blood spilling from his eyebrow and his lip.

And then he moves.

_Fast._

Aloysius doesn't even see it coming, hits reaching him everywhere on his torso and his jaw and his throat, the crowd in a stunned silence when the Shadowhunter kneels, quick, and hits his knee.

Aloysius falls to the ground, screaming when his knee hits the dust.

The Shadowhunter stands up again, his arms and legs shaking, his chest moving erratically to keep up with his breathing.

He stands there, arms dangling at his sides as he breathes in, and Magnus lets himself relax in his seat, a smile curling the corner of his lips.

The Shadowhunter turns, his back to Aloysius' heaving form, and the crowd takes a small step back from the ring.

Magnus' lips curve up into a full grin.

But then there's a body launched towards the Shadowhunter, so fast that Magnus has not time to see, to think, he simply raises his hand, energy flying around the Shadowhunter, protective, and wrapping tightly around the body.

The Shadowhunter turns, chest heaving, eyes wide, and the crowd murmurs as they recognise Aloysius' wolf floating a foot away from the Shadowhunter.

Magnus' lips curl into a grimace, blue and golden energy still flowing from his fingers. He stands up, slowly, black cape falling to his feet; his voice is calm despite the anger boiling right beneath the surface: -You know we don't appreciate sour losers, Aloysius.

He lets a quick burst of energy run through the golden strings wrapped around the werewolf and he sends him flying backwards, crowd parting behind him as he hits the rope around the ring and drags it to the ground.

Magnus' eyes scan the crowd: -Anyone else?

A few murmured nods and some quiet steps back and Magnus drops the shield around the Shadowhunter, who's still looking at him with wide eyes.

Magnus tilts his head towards him with a cat-like smile. He says: -I think we have a winner.

~

He finds the Shadowhunter in the room on the back that works as a pretty depressing locker room after everyone else is gone; he has his head against the wall and he's sitting on one of the benches, probably the only one that's not falling apart, his eyes closed as he simply breathes.

Magnus says: -Good fight,- and the Shadowhunter immediately sits up, eyes flying open, his shoulders tensing. His hand immediately covers a battered paper bag on the bench. Magnus smirks. He bet on himself.

-Thanks,- he says, clearly wary of him, his eyes alert.

Magnus shows him his hands in a peaceful gesture: -I have no interest in hurting you,- he says.

The Shadowhunter studies him for a moment, his eyes like blades in Magnus' mind; he seems to give up: -I guess that makes sense,- he says, -And it's not like I could defend myself if you did.

Magnus grins, and the Shadowhunter eyes him differently now, more curiosity than mistrust. -Thank you,- he says, different, more sincere, like he's carefully weighing his words, -For what you did.

Magnus half-smiles at him, no real humour behind it: -Like your people like to say, _dura lex._

A self conscious smile curls the Shadowhunter's lips, and he winces when it pulls at the cut on his lip.

-Why don't you use an _iratze_?

-Don't have my stele with me,- the Shadowhunter says, fingers moving carefully on his face to gauge the damage, -It's always dangerous to take it with me to the matches.

He stops and looks at Magnus like he thinks he's said too much; his eyes are bright under his messed up hair, in the midst of his skin darkened by the ring's dust.

-You do this often then,- Magnus says, not quite a question as he moves closer to the Shadowhunter, inspecting the cuts on his face.

The Shadowhunter moves backwards slightly, his head hitting the wall: -It's the only thing that feels real,- he murmurs.

Magnus' eyes snap into his, his fingers a few inches away from his face, magic already thrumming beneath his skin.

He knows what he means.

He snaps his fingers, focusing back on the cut on his lip, and lets his magic flow from his fingers, lets it knit the skin together, lets it wander on the Shadowhunter's skin to find scraps and cuts and bruises and pushes the blood back in his veins.

A relieved sigh escapes the Shadowhunter's lips.

Magnus' lips curl into a smile and he playfully taps on the Shadowhunter's chin when he's done, right under his lip, enjoys the way the Shadowhunter's eyes seem brighter when he opens them, there's a moment of quiet where they are just breathing, lips parted and eyes wild.

And then the Shadowhunter's lips are pressing against his, dry, like he's gasping for air, and Magnus tenses, takes an instinctive step back, eyes wide and shocked staring into the Shadowhunter's as he immediately starts babbling: -I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me, I just – -

But then Magnus is kissing him, no grace or finesse, just lips pressing against lips, taking and looking for life, the Shadowhunter's hands in his hair and he feels more real than he has in months, he whispers: -What's your name, by the way?- when they stop to breathe, and the Shadowhunter chuckles, says: -Alec,- breathless, -Yours?

-Magnus.

-Magnus,- Alec repeats, like he's testing it between his lips, leans forward to kiss him again, inhaling through his nose into the kiss, -Nice.

-Yeah,- Magnus breathes, a grin on his lips before he kisses him again, diving after the erratic beating of his heart, -Nice to meet you.

  


  



End file.
